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I’m getting itchy feet already. I should be finding jobs but instead I’m dreaming up trips for later on, a road trip through Utah and Colorado, a month in Vietnam, Cambodia, Puerto Rico… The gypsy blood. But this is why I came to Canada. To travel and work, I’m just not doing so well on …

On to part three, where to begin, where to end. This part of the trip takes me through the redwood forests of Northern California, up the Pacific coast into Oregon. I’ll have an encounter with biscuits and gravy – yep, this is a real thing - and challenge my fear of leaving things unplanned, before …

I wake for the fifth day in a row in my new city, Toronto. I snooze the alarm for another hour, unable to peel myself from the comfort of the duvet. Still on Pacific-time. When I finally wake up I feel something close to good, not missing home, a little less heartbroken. I dig out …

The last couple of days have been tougher than I thought they would be. I’ve barely slept, my body has no idea what time of day it is or what meal I should be eating. After three days of travelling, across three time zones and mostly through the night, I’m exhausted and completely and utterly …

The drive to Yosemite takes longer than expected, winding through the desert into the mountains. The bends so tight and narrow the speed is limited to 20mph in parts, with sheer drops to the side. I don’t dare to look down instead concentrating on the road, frustrated at the automatic transmission which decides to shift …

With no plans to head back to Canada any time soon and keen to leave Portland, I set about planning the trip. The road trip I’d been planning in my head for years. Northern California, San Francisco, the Redwood forests, Yosemite.. The trip that gave me the motivation to learn how to drive in the …

I travelled to Portland from Seattle on the Bolt Bus. The trip was easy enough, but whilst the company is owned by Greyhound, they don’t run from a station. Instead the ‘terminal’ was simply a sign saying ‘No parking, except buses’. I somehow ended up the expert being the first person there, standing awkwardly and …

We met by chance, late one night in October. It was thanksgiving, too much alcohol, food, and a table full of strangers. I was never meant to be there, he was never meant to be there, but there we were. Strangers, friends. Hostels are strange and wonderful places. The usual laws of social interactions don’t …